Pretty Little Mannequin
by Phiso
Summary: Tomoyo Daidouji is known as the Princess of Piffle World, as flawless and beautiful as a mannequin...but can all that perfection take its toll on a person? Do you hide the pain behind a wall? What if someone breaks it down?


This story is for Midnight-sama, who actually wrote the poem that inspired it. :3 I hope you enjoy it, and as usual any constructive criticism is always loved.

Disclaimer: I don't own anything CLAMP-related. If I did, I wouldn't be writing fanfiction, now would I?

  
  


**Pretty Little Mannequin**

  


_1. Dressed up and nowhere to go_

_As you stare out your little glass window, oh_

_Child of plastic and plaster_

_Your skin as pale as alabaster_

_And your lips as red as blood_

_Too bad your eyes are as lifeless as mud_

_Pretty, little mannequin, come and dance with me_

_Pretty, little mannequin, unattached and so free._

  


Tomoyo Daidouji sighed as she stood in her designated place by the entrance, the corner of her mouth twitching slightly in fatigue. As she lifted a pale hand to massage the muscle briefly, her amethyst eyes scanned the room carefully, sharp and alert. Spotting yet another visitor walking towards her a moment later, her hands flew down to straighten her dress as her lips curved into a well-practiced smile and she prepared to bow for what felt like the hundredth time that day – which, the girl mused glumly, it undoubtedly was. As a weary phrase escaped her lips and greeted her guest, she desperately issued another unspoken prayer to God: _please let this one be the last one_.

Piffle Country was host to the annual International Corporate Business Convention, also known as the ICBC. The most prestigious gathering of its kind, it was hosted by a different country each year, and only the most prominent and successful companies were invited. As a result, some of the world's best and most pompous businessmen and women were crammed into a building for three days, each of them forced to smile brighter than usual, shake hands and bow every thirty seconds, and attend panels so boring and stuffy it would a seasoned diplomat cry. Piffle Country hadn't hosted it in over a decade, way before Tomoyo's inheritance of her position; as such, she had been forced to go the extra mile to ensure the conference's success. After all, both the company's and the country's reputation were on the line, two things that she would not have tainted at any cost.

For twelve excruciatingly long months, Tomoyo kept a close eye on virtually every component of the endeavor, smoothing over each problem with an alarmingly meticulous eye. Invitations, speakers, room arrangements, food, décor – no detail was too small to escape her, from the organization of the time table to the way the napkins were to be folded at each meal. Dangerously close to a complete break-down twice and frequently terrifying co-workers with her progressively intensifying work ethic –which was quite frightening enough on its own under normal circumstances – Tomoyo managed to keep her sanity and the conference under control, producing one of the finest conventions the ICBC had seen in over twenty years.

Nevertheless, as she welcomed her four hundred-plus visitors with cordial smiles and a pleasant demeanor, she couldn't help but want to sneak out a back door and leave. As much as she loved her job and her country, Tomoyo couldn't help but feel disgusted at the amount of strained courtesy in one room, and it revolted her further to know that she was no better, a wind-up doll playing along with everyone else.

When at last the final guest arrived and was ushered into the Reception Hall, Tomoyo felt a weight lift itself off her chest. Finally! The dinner wasn't to start for another hour, giving the attendants enough time for cocktails and faux-friendly mingling before sitting down for the elaborately prepared meal. Taking the opportunity for a break, she slipped away from her spot by the entrance and silently made her way towards an empty hall.

"Tomoyo-san?"

She groaned inwardly and instantly felt guilty for it. There was no justification for her impatience; he only wanted to help, it was obvious by the concern in his voice. Turning smoothly and giving Nokoru Imonoyama a smile with the luster of false gold, she strove to give her friend the attitude she knew he deserved though didn't particularly feel up to giving.

"Nokuru-san!" She stopped, allowing the blond to catch up to her. "To what do I owe the pleasure?" She paused, frowning slightly. "Is something wrong, or…?"

"I was just wondering where you were off to," he replied, eyeing her with slight suspicion. "This hall hasn't been authorized for any sort of use tonight, so don't you dare try and tell me you wanted to check up on something." He gave her a weak smile, knowing his attempt at a light-hearted joke was badly done and ill-received.

Tomoyo chuckled, hiding her bitterness; Nokoru knew her too well. "I just wanted to look out the window for a moment before heading inside to mingle with everyone." She motioned gracefully to the large glass wall a few feet away. "It's such a beautiful night, and I haven't had the opportunity to look at the stars for a long time now." Her smile faded a little, betraying her sadness. "I miss it."

Nokoru glanced at the clear night, his azure eyes studying the view before coming back to scrutinize Tomoyo. She was alarmed at how calculating they had become in the few seconds they had been focused outside; it was as if he was reading her like an open book, recognizing her every thought as easily as if it were just another sentence. Struggling to keep her emotions under control, Tomoyo stared back at him with regretfully hard eyes, warning him not to voice any suspicions he might hold. She didn't think she would be able to handle it if he brought any of her secrets to life, not now. She would never be able to get through the conference.

The blond held her gaze for what felt to Tomoyo like years before breaking; he sighed deeply, averting his eyes back down to the rug. She felt a surge of grim triumph; she had avoided another obstacle, another attempt to destroy what she had so carefully put together. She refused to be dissected so easily.

"Don't take too long, Tomoyo-san," he said, looking back up at her with a new degree of sorrow in his eyes. She felt her resolve tremble slightly; he was really worried about her, wasn't he? "You'll be missed."

She looked down as she her smile wavered again, touched by his concern and his vain efforts to comfort her despite the fact that he didn't know what was wrong. "I won't take long," she said at last, composing herself and giving him what she hoped looked like a sincere smile. "I promise."

Nokoru nodded before returning to the Reception Hall, leaving Tomoyo once again alone in the passage. Sighing deeply, she turned slowly and walked to the window, her arms hugging her body in a futile attempt to console herself. Nokoru shouldn't concern himself with her issues, whatever they may be; he was the head of his own company, wasn't he? He had his own problems to worry about. Burdening him with hers would only make things worse.

Tomoyo hadn't realized how close she was to the window until she felt the cool glass upon her forehead; blinking in surprise, she realized she was leaning forward, her weight supported by her head. The only thing that was keeping her from tumbling down four stories and to her death was a thin, almost invisible layer of glass. The very thought made her shiver. Still, as her eyes gazed down at the specks of people walking below, her pale reflection obscuring the view, she questioned uneasily just how far she was willing to tempt fate.

"You shouldn't do that," said a merry but cautious voice. "It's unwise to push one's luck too far."

Starting, Tomoyo immediately straightened up and turned, half-expecting to see Nokoru behind her. However, instead of laying her eyes on the anticipated blond, she found herself facing a young man with dark hair and dancing navy-blue eyes holding what Tomoyo recognized to be a glass of sparkling champagne. Realizing that she still had on a rather shocked expression, she quickly put on serene smile as she cocked her head to the side curiously. "Is there something I can help you with?" she asked, her mind racing to remember his face from the hundreds she had seen that day.

The young man shook his head before taking a calm sip of his drink. "No, I was simply hoping to escape from the crowd for a little while before dinner." He gazed outside at the stars, a strange smile playing on his lips. "I see I'm not the only one who needed such a break."

Tomoyo smiled sheepishly, hugging herself tighter than before. "I was going over my speech," she lied tensely, wondering vaguely where she had put her cards. Ah yes, they were waiting for her on the podium. So much for that lie.

The young man smoothly turned his head to give her an appraising look, reminding her distinctly of Nokoru. She found herself flushing as his dark eyes met hers, suddenly uncomfortable. His eyes were so full of life, of merriment and laughter; hers, she knew, were the exact opposite, dull and lifeless from years of hard work and exhaustion. She found herself dreadfully curious of his title and lifestyle, searching for the answer of a question repeating itself over and over again in her mind: how did he manage to work in the business world and still manage to keep that look of pure joy in his eyes? How?

"I'm sure you'll do magnificently," he said confidently, saying nothing of her obvious lie and looking down at his champagne flute curiously for a moment as he swirled its contents. Taking another sip, he added, "I'm sorry, you must think me terribly rude." He bowed deeply and gracefully, charming her instantly. "My name is Eriol Hiiragizawa."

Suddenly it dawned on her. "I see. You're the CEO of Clow Reed Ltd., are you not?" she asked, not needing an answer. Her mind raced as she thought of the implications of this; he was arguably in a position just as stressful as she, and yet he was still so cheerful and content…how _did_ he do it?

He merely smiled, choosing to instead go back to the previous topic. "This conference is unequivocally the most elaborate and well-conceived I've ever had the pleasure to attend." Studying the environment appreciatively, he continued, "It must have been a strenuous task."

Tomoyo hid her agreement well, saying modestly, "Not at all." She turned back to the window, her eyes on the twinkling stars as she chose her next words. "Besides, even if it was, I would do anything to further my country and my company before the international community."

Tomoyo felt her heart stop as he said quietly, "Even sacrifice yourself?"

She whipped her head around so quickly she got a crick in her neck; she gaped at him, her eyes wide in surprise and shock. Eriol was looking back at her with an almost mournful expression, leading her to believe that this stranger had somehow managed to read and decipher years' worth of concealment in less than fifteen minutes. The very thought terrified her.

Luckily, she was saved by the very thing that caused her grief. "Excuse me, Daidouji-san?" said one of the guards. She wondered vaguely when he had appeared. "You're needed in the Reception Hall."

Giving Eriol one last anxious look, she nodded before excusing herself and heading swiftly towards the awaiting mass behind the gleaming wooden doors. Brushing her hair nervously with one hand and humming softly to prepare her voice, she found her eyes drawn towards the passage, unable to stop thinking about the look Eriol gave her before she left. Bewilderingly enough, by the time she looked back he had disappeared, leaving no trace of his existence behind except the footprints of his voice echoing in her mind.

_I would do anything..._

_Even sacrifice yourself?_


End file.
